


bottoms up, and the devil laughs

by doitsushine92



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Incubus, Denial of Feelings, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Humour, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, and they were ROOMMATES
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:47:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28051143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doitsushine92/pseuds/doitsushine92
Summary: Renjun moves back to Seoul after years of living in China to work at a prestigious dance academy. He doesn't expect his new apartment to come with a live-in incubus, nor does he expect him to be so darn cute.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Mark Lee
Comments: 6
Kudos: 142
Collections: NCTV Secret Santa 2020





	bottoms up, and the devil laughs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [heibai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/heibai/gifts).



> hello!!! i have no recollection of anything that happens in this fic!! i was possessed by the spirit of horny markren and wrote all this in a fever dream so i am NOT responsible for whatever happens
> 
> to my prompter, i hope you enjoy this!!! this was a lot of fun to write, at least the tidbits i remember, and this world is in desperate need for some markren ;;
> 
> a huge thank you to V for betaing this, you're the best ❤ and to L for reading this and assuring me it doesn't suck as much as i think it does, i wuv you very much

Among all the things that could have gone wrong with his new apartment, Renjun certainly wasn't expecting _this_. He thought he would find a leaky faucet or plumbing issues, or maybe it would be smaller than it looked on the website, or that it would smell weird. 

"I'm sorry," Chenle's incredulous voice comes through the speaker, crackly because the phone reception in this building is abysmal. "Did you just say there's an incubus living in your new apartment?"

Renjun sighs, throwing a look over his shoulder to make sure the roof access is still open. The last thing he needs is to get locked out of this building.

"That's what I said," he mumbles, but Chenle isn't paying attention to him.

"An incubus? Are you serious? How the hell did you even manage to rent a haunted apartment? How did you find out? Why is he there?"

While Chenle lets his worry out of his system, Renjun bites his fingernails until they're raw. Chenle is understandably surprised, and a little worried for his safety — and it's sweet! — but this isn't exactly why Renjun called him.

"Chenle," Renjun interrupts him. "This isn't why I called."

"Don't tell me there's more," Chenle groans. "Is there a hellhound living in the park, or something?"

"No."

"Then what is it?"

Renjun takes a deep breath. He can't see the future, but he knows exactly what Chenle is going to say when he hears this.

"Chenle. The incubus is cute."

**☆☆☆**

Renjun moves back to Korea after seven years of living in China, five years of dancing at the Beijing Dance Academy, and three years of actually breaking out of his comfort zone and making friends outside of Chenle.

Well, Chenle and Yukhei, but Yukhei was dating Chenle, so he was friends with Renjun by association. It was out of their hands. Even if Yukhei walked Renjun to his company's building on Wednesdays and Fridays because those were Chenle's days off and Renjun didn't like going on his own, or if Renjun made sure to cook Yukhei's favourites when he spent the night, going as far as to Google Hong Kong-typical meals for his birthday.

He had a tight-knit group of friends he liked: Liu Yangyang, his neighbour from two floors down who worked at a videogame company and smiled with too many teeth, a forked tongue perpetually peeking from his lips; Dong Sicheng, a dancer in Renjun's team that could bend any muscle of his body in any angle he wanted; Chengxiao, who found delight in Renjun's misfortune; Chenle and Yukhei, his biggest nightmares; and Minghao, their dance team's leader and local cryptid.

Renjun didn't think he would be trading that for anything, not in the near future. The hours he spent at the studio were long and grueling, and he often had to spend an entire day off in bed with ice packs glued to every surface of his body, and he certainly could go the rest of his life without smelling another pair of sweaty sneakers, but still.

Sure, he had a slight frenemies situation with Fan ChengCheng, the only other person with the exact same training as Renjun. And sure, the eternal _don't crap where you eat_ metaphor became true when Renjun was stupid enough to date Emma Li during his second year at the company.

On the days he didn't have to go in, not for practice or the classes he handled, Renjun would go to the market with his next-door neighbor, Ms. Zhou, and they would enjoy a pleasant stroll through the cold, cramped hallways while she chatted about a new recipe or home-made medicine, and Renjun would carry their bags and help her put everything away in exchange for a pie or cookies (which he would refuse, at first, but her earnest insistence won him over in the end).

The offer to work with a prestigious dance company in Seoul comes as a surprise, Renjun will admit that much.

Renjun was having dinner with his least favourite couple when he received the email. He remembers how Yukhei ate his weight in beef that night, as well as Chenle drowning his woes in beer — he was failing to capture the emotions in his performance, according to his instructor. It was a hot night, humid in a way that had Renjun's skin feeling clammy, and they stayed in Renjun's apartment where they could crowd under the draft of the air conditioner.

Yukhei laughed at something on his phone, shoving the screen under Renjun's nose to share it with him. Renjun was about to redirect his attention to whatever it was when his own phone pinged with a notification.

Pushing his glasses up his nose, Renjun apologised absentmindedly to Yukhei as he retrieved his phone from his jean pockets. At first, he couldn't recognise the Hangul on his screen, far more used to the Hanji he used daily, but then his alcohol addled brain pushed forth the language he spoke for years and he was widening his eyes in surprise.

Ten seconds later, Renjun was jumping up from his spot on the ground, reading the email aloud even if his friends couldn't understand a lick of what he was saying. Faintly, he heard Chenle ask Yukhei if Renjun was having a seizure.

It was a slow process of translating everything to them, mostly because an inebriated Renjun had a hard time switching from one language to another, but soon all three were celebrating the news.

It wasn't that Renjun disliked their current company. He loved it, in fact, and he couldn't be happier to have spent these past five years there. But he had to admit that he felt giddy, and more than a little tempted. They were offering to fly him out to Korea the next month for an audition and interview, all expenses paid, and if all went well, he would have their support throughout the entire move.

And he knew the company, too. He would be a fool not to know them, given how he lived in Seoul until he was sixteen and the line of work he's in — he was being scouted by one of the biggest dance companies in the country. Renjun couldn't simply turn down an offer like that.

So, he took the audition. He flew to Seoul on a Monday morning, had his interview on Tuesday and then the audition on Wednesday, and he was back in China by Friday. A week later, he received another email:

He had the job.

**☆☆☆**

Back to the present.

Renjun goes back to his apartment after hanging up on Chenle, who'd gone on a five minute spiel about one thing or another, accompanied by Yukhei's less than useful input. He didn't bother to listen to either of them.

Everything is as he left it when he went to the rooftop: cardboard boxes on the kitchen counter and the dining table, his four suitcases on the hallway leading to the bedroom, and the newly bought furniture is still covered in protective plastic. There is an assortment of cleaning products by the wall in the kitchen, a sort of welcome gift from the lady that picked him up at the airport – Ms. Baek, as she introduced herself – and a broom leaning on the couch.

Renjun walks past all that and heads directly for the bedroom. It also looks exactly the same: a bare mattress, a vanity, a little desk tucked into a corner, a wardrobe and an incubus.

So, he wasn't dreaming. No wonder the rent was so cheap.

"Hi," Renjun says, his wave faltering. He feels like an idiot, but what is he supposed to do? Kick him out? Pretend he doesn't see him? "Sorry… About that."

"That's okay," the demon mumbles. He's perched on the desk chair, his knees awkwardly tucked to his chest even if there isn't enough space for him to sit like that. It's probably some sort of demon magic. "You weren't expecting to have a roommate, I get that."

That's an understatement. He thinks a human roommate would have been less shocking.

"My name's Mark," the demon offers softly, waving as well. "I've been living here for twenty years."

He barely looks a day over twenty-one, Renjun thinks. Must be the demon thing.

"I'm Renjun," he replies. "I'm gonna be living here for a while."

"Cool, cool." Mark nods, hopping off the desk. "Um, just so we're clear, I can't leave this apartment."

Renjun blinks. "Why not?"

"It's kind of a demon thing. I can't leave until I finish my mission."

Renjun's hackles rise. He doesn't know what Mark's mission is, but he takes a step back either way, immediately on edge.

Seemingly catching on to his reaction, Mark's eyes widen, and he's quick to shake his head, hands outstretched as if to prove he won't do anything.

"No, no!" Mark stutters. "I'm not gonna hurt you or anything, it doesn't work like that."

"How _does_ it work, then?"

Perhaps belatedly, Renjun realises he's still standing on the threshold and he makes the executive decision to fully enter the room – it's his bedroom, after all. There's nowhere to sit but the bare mattress, so he perches on the edge of the bed after a second of hesitation.

"Well," Mark scratches his neck, "I'm kind of not… a full demon. Yet."

Renjun raises a single eyebrow. Mark, surprisingly enough, blushes to the tips of his ears.

"I'm really young for a demon," he continues. "I'm, like, two hundred? And I haven't finalised my ascension."

A little voice in the corner of Renjun's mind whispers that it would be more fitting for it to be called a descension. The voice sounds incredibly like Minghao. He tells imaginary Minghao to shut up.

"I still have to feed from a few more souls," Mark finishes. "I think there's twenty more to go."

"So, you're supposed to live here until twenty more tenants come through the door?"

"No, uh, but I can see why you would think that! I can leave the apartment, but I can't _leave_." At Renjun's unimpressed expression, Mark tries to explain further, "I can go outside, and talk to people, and travel and do whatever I want. But after twenty four hours, I'll be zapped back here."

Renjun sighs. He doesn't really want to listen to any more explanations, too tired from the trip. All he wants is to put the beddings on the mattress, take a shower, get takeout and then go to bed.

"Alright, well. I guess we're roommates now." Renjun stands in front of the demon and sticks his hand out. "As long as you promise not to leave dirty dishes or clothes all over the place and not to kill me in my sleep, then I don't care what you do."

Mark oggles at him and at his outstretched hand. Renjun guesses he must be wondering why he's so okay with the situation, and Renjun can't blame him — he wonders the same thing. He's sure the reality will crash down on him sooner or later, but for now, he's fine with it.

"Yeah, alright," Mark shrugs, laughing a little to himself. Maybe he finds it amusing. He shakes Renjun's hand, his grip firm and his hands calloused. "Roommates it is."

**☆☆☆**

Renjun was right. The reality does sink in the next morning, and he sits up in bed with a gasp and a wild look around the room.

His bedroom is empty, devoid of intruders – human or otherwise. His suitcases are on the ground, right where he left them the night before, and his duvet is bunched around his legs.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, Renjun stands up, stretching his arms over his head. His spine cracks with the movement and Renjun groans in satisfaction before sliding his feet into his slippers and shuffling out of the room.

During the short trip to the kitchen, Renjun makes his plans for the day: first, he will have breakfast, shower and watch the news, hoping to get reacquainted with the language. Then, he will unpack the things in his room, and maybe he'll do the living room after lunch.

He's in the middle of figuring out what to do in the afternoon when he rounds the corner and finds himself face to face with Mark. Renjun shouts, startled, and the demon shouts back.

"What?" Mark exclaims, holding a coffee mug to his chest.

Renjun pants, clutching his shirt. "You're here! You're... you're real?"

Comprehension dawns on Mark's face. He nods, placing the cup of coffee someplace safe before he turns back to Renjun, kindness shining in his scarlet eyes.

"Yes, I'm real. You didn't dream me up, you weren't hallucinating. There really is a demon living in your apartment with you."

"Well, fuck," Renjun states. "They didn't say that in the AirBnB ad."

"I don't imagine how that would attract many tenants."

Renjun huffs out a laugh. At least the demon has a sense of humour, his tail swinging happily behind him. "Okay, uh, are you hungry? I was gonna make breakfast. 

"Oh, I don't need to eat," Mark says conversationally, taking his coffee mug again and sipping at the beverage. He moves out of Renjun's way, hopping up on the kitchen counter to watch Renjun putter around the kitchen. "Don't worry about me, I'm fine with just coffee."

Ms. Baek bought groceries in his stead yesterday before she picked him up from the airport. It isn't much, his fridge far from full, but it's enough to hold him off for breakfast and lunch today, and he can order take-out for dinner again. Renjun hums, standing in front of the open fridge — he could make scrambled eggs. It's simple and quick.

"Um," Mark hesitates, "Can I ask you some questions? You can ask me stuff back!"

"Yeah, sure," Renjun mumbles. He's too distracted carrying the carton of eggs to the counter to offer much more.

"What are you doing here? I mean, why did you move here?"

"I got a job offer to work at 1MILLION dance studio," Renjun says, cracking two eggs and dumping their contents on a small bowl. He couldn't care less about finesse. "So I moved back to the city."

"Oh. Where are you from, originally?"

Renjun takes an onion and two tomatoes from the fridge and digs around a box on the table for his chopping board and knife, washing them before getting back to work. "China. I lived here in Seoul when I was a kid until I was sixteen, and now I'm back."

"No wonder your Korean is so good," Mark praises him. This catches Renjun's attention and he looks up, surprised to find Mark's grinning at him. "I've met a few other foreigners before and they've struggled to communicate, but you're fluent."

"Ah, thanks?" Renjun smiles quizzically. He doesn't understand why the compliment makes him blush. "I haven't used Korean in years so I might be a little rusty, though."

Mark's face is a little hypnotising. His eyes are red, and his pupils are small in a way that isn't entirely unsettling, his hair is a fiery orange, sticking up on two ends - which, after further examination, Renjun realises are his horns. His tail swings idly even when Mark isn't moving, and it reminds Renjun of a puppy.

Shaking himself out of whatever trance he fell into, Renjun turns his eyes back to the stove and asks, in what he hopes is a light voice, "You said you don't need food but you're drinking coffee. Does that mean you can eat it either way?"

Mark hums. "Yeah, I can eat."

"Great," Renjun grins, pulling out two plates from the box and washing them. "You can do the dishes after breakfast."

**☆☆☆**

Their first few weeks as roommates are... awkward, to say the least. 

Renjun doesn't know how to act. He spends very little time in the apartment as it is, between working at the studio six days a week and getting reacquainted with Seoul on what little free time he has, he barely stops by their place to shower, eat, and sleep.

He also doesn't know when or why he started referring to it as _their_ place rather than _his_ place, but that isn't here nor there.

Mark is always home, it would appear. This fact becomes obvious to Renjun after two weeks of cohabitation, when he gets back earlier than usual and finds the demon on their couch, watching daytime television and eating a bag of potato chips.

He doesn't ask, but Renjun oftentimes wonders if Mark is doing anything at all to achieve his 'mission' of becoming a full-fledged demon. Renjun can't see how staying at home and eating junk food is beneficial to him, but he guesses that Mark knows what he's doing.

Besides, it isn't as if Mark's constant presence is a bother. On the contrary, Mark cooks lunch for Renjun on the days he notices he won't have enough time, and he keeps the apartment clean and tidy. He even has plants on the small balcony in the living room, dadoffils and succulents that he tends to as a hobby.

Renjun enjoys his company, too, even if they don't talk much. Mark offers ideas for songs Renjun can dance to and they watch old drama reruns on the weekends, and Renjun realises, perhaps belatedly, that he likes having Mark around. It floors him more than the fact that he's living with a demon.

Renjun's unspoken question receives its answer after a little over two months. 

It's Tuesday, nearing midnight. Renjun has already reviewed his tapes of the week and jotted down what he thinks he needs to improve on, and he's onto his second beer as he lounges in bed and watches a movie on his laptop.

Mark isn't home yet, and Renjun is most definitely not waiting up for him.

They never exchanged numbers. Renjun never suggested they did, because he didn't see the point: they live together, and Mark was always at the apartment, and it isn't as if they talk that much, either.

But he's regretting it now, even if he won't admit it to himself.

The movie flies over his head. Renjun glances at the clock every other second and gulps down his beer, tapping his feet together under the blanket. He'd been talking to Chenle until an hour ago, when the boy said he would be going to bed, so now Renjun is left with his shitty movie and lukewarm beer.

"This is ridiculous," Renjun sighs, muttering to himself. He still doesn't make a move to turn off the movie or go to sleep. "He's probably fine, he's a demon, he's not lying dead in a ditch."

That prompts Renjun's mind to conjure up multiple images of Mark lying dead in a ditch, and he has to shut his eyes to regain his composure.

After a few more minutes of imagining worst case scenarios, Renjun kicks off his blanket and heads for the kitchen, carrying the two empty beer bottles in his hands. He means to throw those away, grab a glass of water in case he wakes up thirsty, and go to sleep. Even if he knows he'll end up tossing and turning most of the night, or at least until Mark's back.

He's about to return to his room when he hears the front door unlock, and in comes Mark.

"Where the hell have you been?" Renjun exclaims, swiveling to look at the door, still holding onto the glass of water. "It's almost one in the morning, I thought you were–!"

Renjun stops dead in his tracks when his eyes land on Mark. His hair, previously orange, is now a scarlet red that stands out in the darkness of the room, and his horns are impossible to miss, curling high above his head and sharper than Renjun has ever seen them. His eyes shine the same shade as his hair, and Renjun is a little hypnotised.

He isn't stupid. He can imagine what Mark was doing so late into the night.

"Sorry," Mark squeaks, caught off-guard. Renjun would reply if he weren't so busy trying to drag his gaze away from the flames dancing in Mark's eyes. "I– you didn't stay up waiting for me, did you?”

"No," Renjun denies immediately, finally looking away. "I was just watching some movies and I– I noticed you weren't home, that's all."

"Oh, okay," Mark shrugs, walking past him. Just like that.

Renjun gapes, fumbling for something to say. His hand shoots out on its own and he grasps Mark's sleeve before he can stop himself, staring at his fingers as if he hasn't seen them before.

"I," Renjun stutters, releasing Mark. The demon doesn't seem like he minds, although he is looking at him as if he's worried Renjun has a fever or something. "Give me your phone."

Mark does without asking any questions. Renjun isn't entirely sure what he's doing, but his fingers fly over the screen (mildly surprised that Mark doesn't use any kind of security) and adds his phone number to Mark's contacts.

"Text me," Renjun says, ignoring how demanding he sounds, and gives the phone back to Mark. "Next time you'll be home late, so I don't think you're dead."

"You thought I was dead?" Mark asks. He's a little too amused by the idea, Renjun thinks to himself. "You know I can't die, right?"

"Shut up," Renjun grumbles, shoving past him to his room.

He's certain Mark's grinning at his back, but he ignores it.

It doesn't happen again. That is to say, Mark does return to their apartment late a few times after that, always with glowing eyes and sharp horns, but he has the decency of texting Renjun to let him know so he won't worry. Each time he texts, Renjun sends back a thumbs up or a similar emoji, pretending it doesn't bother him.

He doesn't even know why it bothers him.

**☆☆☆**

The holiday season catches Renjun off guard.

He walks into the grocery store one night after a late rehearsal and nearly runs into a giant inflatable Santa.

"Shit," he curses, staggering back. Jaemin laughs in his ear, though he steadies him with a hand on his waist. "Don't laugh, asshole, I could've knocked that thing to the ground."

"What a shame you didn't," Jeno hums. He avoids Renjun's hit by ducking behind Jaemin, and his boyfriend gets the brunt of Renjun's anger.

Renjun still makes sure to glare at his coworker, even if Jeno only grins and starts walking toward the rack of chips. Jaemin pushes Renjun gently so he'll keep moving, saying something about blocking the entrance.

"Your boyfriend's an asshole," Renjun says to Jaemin, grabbing a cart.

"You're the one that decided to dance with him," Jaemin sings. He shoos Renjun away from the cart, leaning heavily on the handle and gliding down the hall. Renjun follows him with a roll of his eyes. "What did you wanna buy?"

"Just the basics," Renjun murmurs, checking the expiration date on a bottle of ketchup before adding it to the cart. "Stop looking at me like that."

"You have no regards for your body, do you?" Jaemin asks.

"Are you seriously going to judge me for using ketchup?"

"You can make your own tomato sauce, you know?"

"I can but I won't."

"Guys," Jeno calls from another aisle, his head poking out above the shelf for a second before he disappears again. "Don't argue in public, people already saw me come in here with you."

Renjun raises an eyebrow in his general direction. "You're the one jumping up and down in the middle of the grocery store, but alright."

Jaemin doesn't put up a fuss for Renjun's unhealthy lifestyle choices, though he wrinkles his nose when he adds cup noodles and energy drinks to the cart. Renjun makes sure to look him in the eye as he grabs the frozen chicken nuggets and a baggy of spices.

"Do we finally get to meet your roommate?" Jeno asks him once they're out of the store, walking toward Renjun's apartment building.

Renjun insisted they didn't have to accompany him all the way back, that he would be fine on his own, but they wouldn't take no for an answer.

"If he's home, yeah, I guess," Renjun shrugs. He isn't thrilled about Jaemin meeting Mark, but he trusts Jeno to keep his boyfriend in check. "It's late, though, he might not be home."

Jaemin wiggles his eyebrows. “I meant to ask, Renjun, but Jeno said I wasn’t allowed to do it until we were closer — we’re closer now, aren’t we? There is only one bed in your apartment, so where does he sleep?”

Renjun shoves him away, and he nearly careens head first into a lamp post.

"Deserved," Renjun narrows his eyes. He doesn't think Jaemin can hear him over how hard Jeno's laughing. “And for your information, Mark doesn’t need sleep. He stays on the couch all the time, you asshole.”

It was a little jarring when Renjun discovered Mark doesn't sleep. And, though he won’t admit it, he feels embarrassed that he didn't think of their sleeping arrangements until his second night living in the apartment, when he was getting ready to go to bed. He nearly spit out his toothpaste as soon as the thought crossed his mind.

Mark is home, much to Renjun's surprise. He's perched on the couch, eating ice cream while watching a Christmas movie, dressed in sweats and an old hoodie. Renjun doesn't know why he feels so happy to see him.

"Hey," Renjun calls out to catch his attention. He zeroes in on the movie and squints, making sure he isn't seeing things. "Are you watching a Hallmark movie?"

"Yes," Mark says defensively, cradling his ice cream to his chest. "It's a good movie, shut up."

Renjun shakes his head. He dumps his bags on the kitchen island, instructing Jeno and Jaemin to do the same before he points at Mark and says, "That's Mark, my roommate. Mark, these are Jeno and Jaemin. Jeno and I work together, Jaemin's his pesky boyfriend."

"Nice to meet you," Jeno grins, throwing a wave.

Jaemin doesn't embarrass him. Renjun's surprised that the boy only echoes a greeting, smiling kindly. Why he couldn't give Renjun the same treatment when _they_ met is a mystery.

(Jaemin had leaned in as close to his face as he could, grinning in a way that made Renjun feel like prey, and he'd given Renjun an up and down look that had shivers running down his spine. Renjun listened to his instincts and socked him on the shoulder, much to Jeno's amusement, and Jaemin's smile only widened.)

"Okay, you met him, you can go now," Renjun says, pushing them toward the front door. "Thanks for walking me home and for helping me with my groceries. I'll see you tomorrow, Jen."

"No problem, Junnie," Jeno says, his eyes curving into crescents.

"How come he gets a goodbye?" Jaemin whines.

Renjun doesn't dignify that with an answer. Jeno seems to be soothing him either way, cooing at him as the door closes.

"Your friends seem nice," Mark comments. He's in the kitchen, putting the food away. Renjun's too tired to tell him he can handle it, collapsing on one of the stools and lying his forehead on the cool tiles of the isle.

"Jeno's really nice," Renjun agrees. "Jaemin is a menace to society, but they're a package deal."

"Here."

Renjun looks up. Mark's sliding a plate covered in aluminum his way, a couple of napkins on top. Renjun's stomach grumbles, successfully reminding him that he hasn't eaten anything in hours, and he unwraps his dinner eagerly.

"You ordered pizza?" Renjun asks. It smells delicious, even if it's lukewarm by now. He doesn't bother heating it again, though.

"I made it, actually," Mark says. Renjun glances up, eyes and cheeks bulging, and Mark laughs at his expression. "Don't look so surprised. I said I don't need to eat, but that doesn't mean I don't like food."

"Yeah, no, I know that," Renjun says through a mouthful of food. "I just didn't think you knew how to make pizza. It's really good, holy shit."

"Thanks," Mark chuckles. “Hey, wanna join me for the rest of the movie?”

Renjun hesitates, making a show of chewing on his slice of pizza. He’s exhausted, if he’s being honest, and he wants nothing more but to go shower and then collapse on his bed. But he doesn’t know if the opportunity to hang out with Mark will come again, and he doesn’t want him to get the wrong impression.

“Sure,” Renjun shrugs, sliding off the stool with his plate in one hand. “But only for one movie, I’m kinda tired.”

Renjun wonders if he’s imagining the excited little grin on Mark’s face. It’s probably his desperate need for sleep that’s making him see things. Regardless, he joins Mark on their couch, propping his plate on his knees and taking another bite out of his slice. Mark fumbles with the remote control for a second before pressing _Play_ and the sounds of a Christmas carol come through the speakers.

“Don’t judge,” Mark grumbles, most likely sensing the look Renjun’s sending him. “They’re fun to watch.”

“Uh huh. What’s this one about?”

“A lady goes to her family reunion for the holidays and runs into some guy she knew from school,” Mark says. “It’s really stupid but,” he shrugs.

“They’re not stupid,” Renjun mumbles, eyes trained on his pizza. “If you like them, that’s all that matters, right?”

Mark throws him a bright grin. Renjun stuffs the rest of his slice into his mouth in order to keep himself from saying something stupid. 

**☆☆☆**

It happens again, and Renjun won’t admit it to anyone else, but it makes him excited. It becomes a bit of a habit, in which Renjun returns from dance practice to a home cooked meal and Mark dressed in increasingly dumb Christmas sweaters, and the two of them will sit together on the couch and watch holiday themed movies.

Renjun also brings home treats he buys from various street vendors, mostly cookies and homemade eggnog that they drink until they’re pleasantly buzzed and giggling like fools. Mark, for a being from hell, can’t handle his alcohol very well, and Renjun has to take his cup away from him on more than one occasion to avoid a disaster from striking. It’s cute how he turns red, though, the fire in his eyes turning a gentle red and his tail wrapping around whatever’s closest — kind of like a cat. 

It’s during one such occasion that things change between them.

It’s a Friday night, and Renjun had the day off, so he isn’t as tired as he usually feels. He and Mark ordered tacos for dinner and drank a little too much tequila, and they didn’t stop when they were tipsy — they kept going until Mark was leaning heavily on Renjun’s shoulder and Renjun couldn’t stop giggling.

Mark hadn’t stopped going out on some nights in his search for the souls he needed to ascend, but he was back early tonight. His hair is now black as night and Renjun wants to tell him that he likes this look on him better than the orange locks. His eyes are fiery red and his horns are sharp, and Renjun can’t keep his hands to himself. 

Renjun reaches out with his hand, gauging Mark’s reaction before he actually touches the appendage. It’s hard, smooth, and it feels like… Renjun can't place the sensation, his alcohol-addled brain too fuzzy to describe it. Mark makes a sound of content and snuggles closer, giving Renjun permission to touch to his heart’s content.

“Does this happen when you feed?” Renjun asks, voice low. Mark nods, non-verbal. “What does it feel like?”

“Good,” Mark replies. It comes out raspy, as if he’s sleepy, and Renjun shuts his eyes to fight back a sudden wave of arousal. “It’s sex, Junnie, sex feels good.”

“Yeah, but,” Renjun fumbles, his fingers grazing around the tip of a horn. He feels Mark shiver. “The feeding itself, isn’t it different?”

“How do you feel when you have a meal you like?” Mark shoots back. “When you eat ice cream or that dish you make on Sundays?”

“Happy,” Renjun says easily. Then, quieter, “Oh.”

“Oh,” Mark echoes, chuckling. 

“What about for the person you’re feeding from?” Renjun asks before he can chicken out.

“They usually orgasm when I start to feed,” Mark says, so nonchalantly he might as well be discussing the weather. Heat pools in Renjun’s tummy and he has to remind himself to breathe. 

"Oh," Renjun whispers.

It's probably the alcohol that prompts him to ask his next question. God knows he wouldn't dare ask something like this if he were sober.

"Have you thought about doing it with me?"

Mark freezes for a second before removing his face from Renjun's shoulder, looking at him and– Renjun can't drag his eyes away from Mark's red orbs. 

"Are you sure about that?" Mark asks. It doesn't sound like he's against the idea, only like he's making sure Renjun knows what he's saying.

If Renjun's honest, he doesn't think he knows what he's saying. All he knows is that Mark is an incubus who feeds from people's sexual energy in order to stay alive, and that he needs to feed from twenty people in order to finish his ascension to demon. 

Or maybe the number has gone down in the past few weeks. Renjun tries not to keep count of how many nights Mark returns late to their apartment. 

"I don't know," Renjun admits.

"I don't think it's a good idea for us to have sex tonight," Mark tells him, and it sounds final. Renjun fails to conceal his disappointment, and Mark giggles at his expression. "That doesn't mean we can't kiss."

Renjun does his best not to show how eager he is to do that. He thinks he fails, once more.

Mark tilts his chin and leans in, brushing their lips together and glancing up to gauge Renjun's expression before he dives in again and kisses him properly.

Their kiss tastes like vodka and Mexican food. Renjun makes a sound of contentment and presses closer, wrapping a hand around Mark's forearm for leverage as Mark cups his cheek. 

It doesn't take long for their tongues to meet in the middle. Renjun moans and surges forward, licking around Mark's gums until he hears Mark make a sound that sends chills down his spine. 

Mark leans back on the couch until his back hits the armrest. Since he has nowhere to go, Renjun seizes the opportunity and climbs into his lap, feeling Mark groan as his tongue tickles behind his teeth. Renjun grins into the kiss and grasps Mark’s neck so he can’t go anywhere.

They only pull apart when Renjun absolutely can’t go without air anymore, and he does so reluctantly. Mark’s lips are swollen red and he seems hazed, as if Renjun kissed the awareness out of him — Renjun likes that look on him. 

“Was that…?” Renjun trails off, unsure of what he wanted to ask. 

“Good?” Mark guesses. He sounds fucked out and Renjun’s mind screeches to a halt. “It was great, Renjun.”

Renjun smiles in spite of himself. “Great,” Renjun echoes. He’s still sitting on top of Mark, but he’s in no rush to move off him. He quite likes it up here, he feels powerful. Having an incubus beneath you with a hint of your spit still in the corner of their mouth can do that to you.

**✩✩✩**

Two weeks later, deep into the Christmas season, Renjun finds himself in a bit of a situation. 

There is flour stuck up his nose, and Mark is howling with laughter, the culprit. Renjun coughs and watches as a white cloud leaves him. He makes sure to send Mark a glare before he turns toward the sink and washes his face as thoroughly as he can.

“Not funny,” Renjun grumbles. Damn, he has flour on his hair and shirt, too. “That shit doesn’t just grow on trees, you know?”

“It’s funny,” Mark counters. “You look cute.”

Renjun glares in distaste and goes back to scrubbing his face. He thinks he’s only making it worse like this — maybe he should just take a shower. But he needs to make these cookies today, or else he won’t have anything to bring for the studio’s Christmas party.

Mark continues to giggle in the background, though when Renjun turns around with a (mostly) clean face, he finds Mark finished the batter and is carefully filling the trays. Renjun relaxes his shoulders and approaches him again, peering over Mark’s shoulder to see what he’s doing. 

“Be careful not to overflow the crevices,” Renjun reminds him gently. Mark nods, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “Nice! I’ll put this tray in the oven and you can fill the rest, alright?”

Truthfully, when Mark offered to help Renjun with his cookies, Renjun wasn’t very excited to accept the offer. Mark has proven to be a pretty decent cook so far, even if there are some things he simply cannot do (like eggs, for instance, or his one and only attempt at making hot pot) but Renjun has seen him try to bake before. It didn’t end well.

Regardless of his reluctance, Renjun agreed. He’s on a time crunch here and in desperate need for a second set of hands to help him — Jaemin offered to help, but he already has to help his boyfriend make panettone and Renjun didn’t want to impose.

Mark turned out to be better at this than Renjun thought. He’s quick to pick up on Renjun’s instructions and has steady hands when he applies the frosting, and he doesn’t eat nearly half as many marshmallows and chocolate chips as Renjun does, so that’s a plus.

“How many of these are you making for the party?” Mark asks, filling out another tray. 

Renjun licks his fingers clean of batter and shrugs, bending over to check on the cookies inside the oven. “I don’t know, however many I can make with this batter. There are a lot of people invited to the party but everyone is bringing food and stuff so,” he shrugs again.

“We should make a batch for ourselves,” Mark says, grinning at him for a second before he turns back to the icing. He’s doing a better job than Renjun at that, so he doesn’t try to intervene.

“We should,” Renjun agrees. His eyes sparkle as he holds up the bag of marshmallows and adds, “We should use all of these and make super gooey cookies.”

Mark laughs, though Renjun can’t tell if he agrees or not. Renjun rolls his eyes and pops another marshmallow into his mouth.

“Whatever,” Renjun grumbles. “You’re coming with me to the party, right?”

Mark’s grip on the icing sleeve slips. He’s barely able to save the cookies from their unfateful end, and he stares at Renjun with widened eyes.

“I am?” he squeaks.

Renjun nods, blinking slowly. “Yeah? I thought you were.”

“Oh. Um, yes, I’m coming with you.”

“Cool,” Renjun smiles. “Do you own a suit or something? It’s kinda formal according to the invitation.”

“What kind of party is black tie but also requires people to bring a contribution, like it’s a potluck?”

“Dude, don’t ask me, I don’t know. Jeno said they do weird shit like this all the time, I’m just gonna go with it.”

Mark nods. He’s blushing a little, even if he just trashed Renjun’s current company, and Renjun can’t help the endeared grin that grows on his face. 

“After we’re done here,” Renjun starts, busying himself with the aluminium as an excuse to glance away from Mark, “Do you wanna watch another movie?”

“Sure,” Mark says, and he sounds more excited than Renjun thought he would. “There’s a new one on Netflix that caught my eye the other day, I think you’ll like it.”

“Hmm. Oh, and Mark?”

Renjun waits for Mark to turn around before he flings a handful of flour at his face. Renjun cackles while Mark stands there, gaping and covered in white. He looks ridiculous, kinda, but he also looks cute. 

“Payback,” Renjun laughs. 

He’s too busy laughing to notice how Mark is reaching for the icing, and it isn’t until he has frosting on his nose that he realises his mistake. Never turn your back on your enemy — or get distracted with your amusement.

Renjun gasps, his hands flying to his face to protect himself from further attacks. Mark smirks at him from beneath the flour, his tail swinging behind him. His eyes are lit with eager playfulness.

Mark’s mistake, in this case, is to think Renjun won’t use the eggs left on the counter.

Five minutes later, the two of them are dirty beyond belief with food, the kitchen is a mess, and Renjun is pretty sure one of the batches was ruined in their battle. They’re also laughing too much to care.

“Ugh, I think I have egg on my hair,” Mark groans, checking for the offending yolk. 

Renjun tries to blink past the sugar in his eyes and fails. “I need a shower,” he announces.

“Same,” Mark says.

They stare at each other for a second. Renjun shuffles his feet, suddenly aware that there is only one shower in the apartment.

“I can,” Mark stammers, “Shower later, of course. You go first.”

“No, no,” Renjun shakes his head. “You can go first.”

“It’s your shower,” Mark says. “And, besides, I started it. You go.”

Renjun can’t argue with that. He only nods and scurries past him, too shy to look at him for some reason. 

He showers quickly, although he makes sure to rid his hair and body of any and all remains of food. The water below him pools around the drain, no doubt thanks to the clumps of flour and sugar and egg, but they’re washed away fairly easily.

When he steps out of the bathroom, towel slung around his waist and still dripping wet, he means to make a beeline for his bedroom to change. But he accidentally runs into Mark on the way out, slamming into him and almost slipping to the ground in his haste to put some distance between them. 

“Sorry,” Mark yelps, reaching out to stop his fall. Renjun staggers back, regaining his balance thanks to Mark’s aid, and suddenly remembers he’s naked. 

Mark seems to reach the same conclusion around the time Renjun does, because he averts his eyes as if burnt, glancing at the ceiling. 

“I’ll,” Renjun mumbles, “be in my room.”

In the safety of his room, Renjun covers his face with his hands and groans in annoyance. When did he turn into such a blushing virgin? Last time he checked, he didn’t stumble and act like a little boy with a crush around anyone.

“Get your shit together, Huang,” he berates himself. 

Of course, that is easier said than done. Especially when a half-dressed and dripping wet Mark comes into his line of vision ten minutes later. 

Let’s just say Renjun keeps his hands to himself by sheer force of will.

**✩✩✩**

The next night, Renjun fusses over his tie while Mark lounges on the bed, playing with the cufflinks on his shirt. Renjun didn’t even see him get dressed – he feels like he blinked once, and Mark was ready to go.

“Need help?” Mark offers.

“No,” Renjun huffs. He’s already having a hard time concentrating without Mark’s added proximity. “I got it, don’t worry about it.”

Mark shrugs and doesn’t question it. Renjun glares at the offending garment before chucking it to his dresser, making the executive decision that ties are stupid and he doesn’t need one anyway.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks. 

Mark looks up at him again and nods. He definitely notices how Renjun chose not to wear the tie, suppressing a smile while getting out of bed, but he keeps his mouth shut. Smart, Renjun thinks, because he would have killed him if he made any comments about it. 

“Our car should be downstairs by now,” Renjun says, leading the way out of his bedroom. The apartment is mostly dark since they only needed so many lights on to get dressed in his room, and the only illumination past the corridor is a long lightbulb in the kitchen and the moonlight streaming through the open window. 

“I’ll get the cookies,” Mark announces. Renjun doesn’t see him move, preoccupied with making sure the windows are closed properly. “Should I take off the aluminum or leave it on?”

“I wanted to put them on the plastic container on top of the fridge,” Renjun calls out, drawing a curtain closed before stepping back. “I know it isn’t as fancy, but I don’t wanna risk dropping the cookies or have them slide off the tray on the way.”

Renjun turns around to enter the kitchen and nearly shits his pants. 

In the darkness of the living room, all he can see is red: fiery red pits dancing above him, a wicked tail that glows in the dark, and the outline of two horns illuminated by the faint shimmer of the moon.

Renjun curses and staggers back, hitting the back of his knees against the coffee table behind him. 

“Oh, shit,” Mark exclaims, moving back as well. The next second, the light above them turns on.

Squinting against the sudden brightness, Renjun notices Mark’s regretful expression. It makes him feel like such an asshole for reacting the way he did, but he couldn’t help it. There is something inherently terrifying about a demon standing behind you that goes beyond months of friendship.

“Sorry,” Mark apologises sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to say I put the cookies in the container.”

“Thank you.”

Mark nods. Renjun does his best to keep his eyes on Mark’s, no matter how they make his stomach roll in itself. He can’t tell if it’s fear or arousal clouding his head, perhaps a bit of both, and it’s dizzying.

There isn’t much space inside the cab, and Renjun’s side keeps brushing Mark’s for the whole ride. He focuses on holding the container on his lap and on the blurry streets outside the window — until he catches Mark’s reflection.

Once they arrive at the hotel, Renjun exits the taxi cab and takes a deep breath of fresh air. All he could smell was Mark’s cologne and soap.

“Want me to take the invitation?” Mark offers. 

Renjun agrees, telling Mark he has the invitation in his suit jacket’s pocket. He quickly realises his mistake when Mark has to get close and personal with him in order to retrieve the envelope, his hand sliding inside his jacket and feeling for a rectangular shape.

Renjun holds his breath. Mark looks at him through his eyelashes, fingers splayed across Renjun’s shirt until he finally grabs the invite and slides it out of his jacket so excruciatingly slow that Renjun feels like he’ll faint.

Incubi can smell arousal. That single fact rattles around inside Renjun’s brain for as long as they hold eye contact and long after that. Even as they walk up the stairs to the hotel’s grand entrance, through the lobby toward the hall, he’s hyper-aware of Mark’s sharp supernatural senses. It makes his skin tingle.

“Nice party,” Mark comments. A few people turn and stare at him, but most don’t blink an eye at his presence. Renjun releases a sigh he didn’t realise he was holding. “Thanks for bringing me.”

“Thanks for coming with me,” Renjun says. “I would’ve hated to come here by myself.”

Mark smiles at him. It’s a show-stopping kind of smile.

“The food is over there,” Renjun blurts out, pointing toward the tables at the far end of the room. “I’m gonna deliver the cookies.”

Without waiting for Mark to reply, he takes off as fast as his legs will carry him without looking like a crazy person. Renjun takes the short reprieve to gather his thoughts and reel in his libido. It’s just Mark, he tells himself, there’s nothing to freak out about.

It’s just Mark, who kisses like an angel and is hot as hell and looks good in a suit and even better lounging on Renjun’s bed. 

Fuck.

Renjun spots Jeno and makes a beeline for him, plastering on a smile that he hopes doesn’t convey how distraught he feels. Jeno sees him coming and grins brightly, genuinely happy to see Renjun, and calls out to him when he’s within hearing range.

“Junnie! You came!”

“Of course I did,” Renjun grumbles, cheeks hurting from his smile. 

“You clean up well,” Jeno praises, looking at him up and down. Renjun swats his arm in response and asks where his worse half is hiding. “Jaemin’s with Jisung and Hyuck. Oh, you’ll finally meet them!”

“Can’t wait,” Renjun chuckles. “Mark’s over there by the bar, I should go get him.”

“You point as if there’s any way I could not spot those horns.”

Renjun rolls his eyes and makes Jeno promise he won’t move from the spot before he goes to fetch his date.

Hold on.

Not date. His roommate. His friend. Mark.

“Hey,” Renjun sighs, catching up to Mark. “Sorry about that, I just didn’t want to risk dropping those.” Which doesn’t even make sense, the cookies were in a plastic container and perfectly safe, but Mark doesn’t say anything.

“That’s fine,” Mark says and hands him a glass of wine. “I wasn’t sure what you liked but the bartender said this was a good year.”

Renjun takes a sip and beams at Mark. “This is perfect. Come on, Jeno’s over there.”

The rest of the night passes better than Renjun could have expected. Jaemin doesn’t terrorise him as much as he usually does, perhaps sensing Renjun is having enough inner turmoil as it is, and they even introduce them to their friends.

Jisung is another dancer at 1MILLION, younger than them by a couple of years and absolutely endearing. He flounders a bit when he sees Mark, but he recovers easily and even makes conversation with him long into the night.

This so-called Hyuck turns out to be, as fate would have it, Renjun’s childhood friend and neighbour. Renjun’s eyes turn comically wide when he sees his face, hears his name, and Donghyuck recognises him at the same time. 

“It’s so good to see you,” Donghyuck grins, clinking their glasses together. “I didn’t think you’d ever come back from China.”

“Me neither,” Renjun admits. “But I got a good offer and I couldn’t just say no.”

“We should get together one day!” Donghyuck gasps, grasping Jaemin’s forearm and shaking him from side to side. “All of us, it will be fun!”

“We’re together now,” Jisung points out.

Donghyuck pouts at him. “Yeah, but _babe,”_ he whines, “I can’t annoy Jeno here without getting kicked out of this fancy hotel.”

“Thank goodness,” Jeno murmurs. Donghyuck glares at him.

Renjun hides his amusement behind his wine glass, though when he makes eye contact with Mark, he sees he isn’t the only one to find their antics amusing. 

Sometime after ten in the evening, Renjun finds himself alone with Mark on a balcony. He has no idea how he got here, but he knows that he’s on his second glass of wine, he knows he accepted two shots from Jaemin, and he knows all he’s eaten were two slices of panettone courtesy of Jeno and some chicken salad.

Mark is telling him an anecdote about his time on Earth and how long he’s lived in the apartment. He’s talking about some of the other tenants, how a few moved out immediately while others stuck around until it was time for them to move on.

Renjun is staring at the way Mark’s hair falls on his forehead now that the hair gel is losing effect. How he gestures with his hands when he speaks. How he licks his lips after taking a sip of his wine and how his teeth glint under the moonlight when he smiles.

In a spur of bravery and something else Renjun can’t name, he interrupts Mark mid-sentence to blurt out, “Can we kiss again?”

Mark halts, his eyebrows climbing high on his forehead in surprise or perhaps incredulity. Renjun can’t blame him — he can’t believe he said that, either.

“I’m sorry,” Renjun shakes his head, clamping both hands over his mouth. “I don’t know why I said that, I’m sorry.”

“We can kiss again.”

**☆☆☆**

Renjun’s shoulder knocks against the stall door. He grunts in annoyance, adjusting so that he isn’t quite as close to it, and instead closer to Mark.

Mark’s lips trail scorching heat from Renjun’s cheek to his jaw, lingering below his lips before they latch onto his neck and suck a bruise that will last for days. His hands lift Renjun off the ground with supernatural strength, only an inch or so for easier access. 

The bathroom stall isn’t as big as Renjun wishes it were, but it’s enough for them to squeeze inside together. It doesn’t leave much room for them to move, but that comes with an advantage: they’re pressed together as close as they could get. Renjun can feel every line and dip of Mark’s body against his own.

“If anyone finds us here,” Renjun pants, gripping Mark’s jacket, “We’re dead. I’m dead. _You’re_ dead.”

“We could go home,” Mark suggests, muffled in the side of Renjun’s neck. 

“Don’t wanna move. Can’t you do your freaky demon thing and zap us there?”

Mark smiles, or maybe smirks — Renjun can’t tell like this. His hands tighten their grip on Renjun’s waist. 

For a second, Renjun feels as if he’s on the highway with the windows down. A gust of air whips around him, ruffling his hair, and then it’s over as soon as it started. Renjun opens his eyes and finds himself back in his apartment.

“Whoa,” he breathes. “You know, that’s quite a handy skill you have there. Can you do that anywhere or does it have to be a place you’ve been to before?”

Mark gives him a look. “Do you want to discuss my demonic powers or do you want to make out?”

“Make out. Definitely make out.”

They land on the couch, a mess of limbs and wrinkled suits. Renjun discards their jackets, throwing them on the ground before latching onto Mark’s neck with his mouth. Mark makes a sound that travels to the bottom of Renjun’s stomach and simmers, leaving him light-headed.

“Oh,” Mark gasps, long fingers carding through Renjun’s hair. 

Renjun’s hard in his pants, and he would think it’s ridiculous to feel so bothered already only from some kissing and mild petting. He would, if he couldn’t tell that Mark feels the same way.

The idea of having a demon’s hard on pressed to his thigh sounds like a fever dream, or one of those fantasies Renjun would indulge in late at night. He never thought it would come true.

Mark grabs Renjun’s hair and pulls him away from his neck, claiming his lips again. Their tongues slide together, and Mark moans into Renjun’s mouth when he nibbles a little on his tongue, just to see his reaction.

Renjun’s pleased, to say the least. He smiles into the kiss and does it again, sucking on Mark’s tongue just to hear him make that sound again. 

“Renjun,” Mark moans, pulling back to speak. Renjun hums in acknowledgment, peppering kisses along Mark’s jaw. “Are you sure this is— fuck— this is what you wanna do?”

“What do you mean?” Renjun mumbles, trying to angle his head so he can bite down on Mark’s earlobe. Mark’s hands on his waist are driving him crazy. 

“Sex. Do you want to have sex?”

Renjun sighs and puts more room between them. He squints at Mark, trying to discern why he’s asking such a stupid question.

“Of course I want to have sex with you,” Renjun replies. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t interested in jumping your bones.”

Mark laughs and shakes his head. “Yeah, no, I got that part. I just mean… you know I’m an incubus. I feed from sexual energy, and I can’t stop it. If we have sex,” he says, the most serious Renjun has ever seen him since the day they met, “I’ll feed from you. Is that okay?”

Renjun blinks. He’s man enough to admit he hadn’t thought about that until now, and it’s making him reconsider a lot of things. He pauses to consider it, and Mark waits patiently, rubbing circles into his waist.

“I don’t think I’m ready for that yet,” Renjun confesses. “And I think I would feel more comfortable if we tried to work our way up to that? I’m sorry, it genuinely escaped my mind, I wouldn’t have tried to bone you like that, I’m sorry. I can’t believe this is the second time I blueball you.”

“Don’t apologise for that,” Mark shakes his head, offering him a smile. His lips are _so_ red. “It’s fine. And, technically, I blue balled you last time, so now we’re even.”

“You know,” Renjun starts, biting his bottom lip, eyes trained on Mark’s mouth, “That doesn’t mean we can’t keep kissing. I have self-restraint.”

Mark laughs, breathy and a little giggly, still a bit tipsy from the wine. “Yeah, we can still kiss.”

Renjun grins back at him. He’s definitely tipsy too, perhaps leaning a bit closer to drunk, and he’s thankful he still has some of his inhibitions in place. God knows he would be naked by now if he had another glass.

Later that night, after Renjun has made sure to kiss Mark senseless and he’s getting ready to go to sleep, he asks Mark something he’s been meaning to bring up for a few days now. 

Or longer. It doesn’t matter.

“Hey,” Renjun says, playing with the sleeve of his pajama shirt. He waits until Mark has looked up from his phone to ask, “Do you wanna… I don’t know, share the bed? Sleep with me?”

When Mark doesn’t reply right away, Renjun panics, fumbling to assure Mark that he doesn’t mean it like _that_ and that Mark doesn’t have to accept anyway, ears burning red. 

“I would like that,” Mark says. There is a smile growing on his face, which Renjun suspects is part amusement and part endearment. “But I don’t sleep.”

“I know,” Renjun mumbles. He feels silly like this, standing in his living room, in his pjs, asking a boy to sleep on his bed. “I just meant we could… cuddle?”

“What happened to the guy saying he wanted to fuck an hour ago?” Mark teases him. 

“You know what? Offer’s off, fuck off.”

Mark’s laugh follows him back to his bedroom, along with Mark himself. “I’m just messing with you,” he says, though the effect of his supposed apology is lost in his giggles. “Come on, I’ll let you be the big spoon.”

Renjun glares. 

“Little spoon?”

Renjun humphs. He settles into bed, his phone charging on his nightstand, and stares expectantly at Mark until he joins him. 

Now, Renjun didn’t think much about the logistics of cuddling with someone that has a tail. Mark curls around him, a hand splayed out on his tummy beneath Renjun’s sleeping shirt and the other trapped under Renjun, his head resting on Renjun’s nape, and his tail wraps around Renjun’s wrist. The forked end pokes him a little, but it isn’t unpleasant. Renjun never bothered to imagine what his tail would feel like, but he didn’t expect it to be so… humanlike. He can’t really explain it.

“Good night,” Renjun whispers into the darkness of his room. 

“Sweet dreams, Junnie,” Mark says, smiling into Renjun’s nape. 

Renjun suppresses a shiver as Mark kisses the spot afterward. The feeling chases him all the way to his dreams.

**☆☆☆**

The next week passes in a blur of dance rehearsals, outings with Donghyuck (sometimes accompanied by Jisung, sometimes Jeno, oftentimes Jaemin) and last minute shopping sprees when he realises that he doesn’t have enough food or decorations for Christmas.

“I thought you said you didn’t want to do anything for Christmas?” Mark asks while they wait in line at the grocery store. It is the day before Christmas Eve and the store is understandably devoid of food, but they found what they needed: wrapping paper and cinnamon. 

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Renjun says, “But Jaemin called and said their plans to visit Jeno’s parents fell through so they’re having a get together at their apartment.”

“What are we making?”

“I thought about making caramel apple pie, but it would be too disastrous,” Renjun shrugs. “Peppermint bark seems easier.”

Later in the day, Renjun instructs Mark to melt chocolate on the stovetop while he lines a baking tray with a paper sheet. Making peppermint bark doesn’t take long, and he’s considering baking a sour cream pound cake.

“This looks so good,” Mark groans, staring at the bowl of chocolate on the pot. “Can’t we just eat this and bring a bottle of champagne to the party instead?”

Renjun laughs. “That sounds tempting, but I promised Jeno I’d bring something to eat for dessert.”

Mark sticks his tongue out at him, then pouts as he looks back at the chocolate. “This is done, I think. What’s next?”

Renjun finishes the peppermint bark, putting the trays in the freezer and setting the timer on his phone. In the meantime, Mark swipes his finger through the leftover chocolate on the bowl and sticks it into his mouth, looking like Christmas came early.

“Hey,” Renjun whines, flapping his arms at him. “Save some for me!”

Mark gathers some more chocolate on his finger and offers it to Renjun. Renjun squints at him, partly because he thinks Mark’s being corny, partly because he doesn’t trust the glint in his eyes. He leans in, parting his lips to take Mark’s chocolate covered finger into his mouth, only for Mark to snatch his finger away at the last second, popping it into his own mouth.

“Asshole,” Renjun glares. 

Mark smiles, tight-lipped, and puckers his lips, tapping them with his index finger. Realisation dawns on Renjun and he laughs aloud, feeling giddy at the prospect. He’ll forgive Mark for his crimes, just this once, and goes on his tip-toes to lick the chocolate out of Mark’s mouth. 

They almost miss the timer going off.

The next day, they show up to Jaemin and Jeno’s apartment with two trays of dessert and a bottle of champagne. Jeno opens the door, wearing the most hideous Christmas themed sweater Renjun has ever seen as well as the brightest smile. 

“You made it!” he cheers, bringing Mark in for a hug. He tries to do the same with Renjun but quickly realises it wouldn’t be the best idea with the desserts, so he settles for clapping him on the shoulder. “The others are here already, come in.”

Their apartment looks like a Hallmark Christmas movie threw up in it. A string of colourful lights decorates the edges of windows, flashing gold, red, white, and blue across the space, and a Christmas tree sits in a corner of the room, decorated to hell and back. The coffee table has a Santa cookie holder and there are socks hanging from a fake chimney — it’s a poster of a chimney pasted to the cream walls, and so are the socks. 

“Nice,” Renjun comments, though he means to say something along the lines of _excessive._

“It’s all Jaemin,” Jeno says, proud of his boyfriend’s decorative work. “He also did most of the cooking, but I did the heavy lifting.”

“Are the sweaters his idea, too?” Renjun asks, motioning to Jaemin’s sweater clad form rushing toward him from across the room. He panics, cradling the trays closer to himself as he exclaims, “Jaemin, hold it! I have precious cargo in my arms!”

Jaemin halts three inches before he collides against him, pouting. “But I wanna hold precious cargo, too.”

Renjun offers the trays to him. Jaemin shakes his head, still pouting, and Renjun bursts out laughing. From the couch, Donghyuck complains he didn’t receive the same treatment when they arrived.

“You mean me?” he asks. “That’s sweet, Jaemin, but you can just hug Mark.”

Jaemin doesn’t need to hear that twice. He tackles Mark into a hug, catching him off guard — Mark’s quick reflexes and his tail are the only thing that keeps them from falling to the ground. 

Renjun rolls his eyes at his antics and heads for the dining table to drop off the trays. The surface is fit to burst with food and drinks, most of it placed on Christmas themed plates and cups. 

“Hey, Junnie,” Jeno calls. When Renjun turns around, Jeno has a secretive smile on his face, and it puts him on edge. “We actually have a surprise for you.”

“What is it?”

Instead of replying, Jaemin heads down the hallway leading to the bedroom. He’s gone for less than a minute, and when he returns, Chenle and Yukhei are behind him.

Renjun can’t react for a second. He stands there, gaping at Chenle’s shit eating grin and Yukhei’s barely contained excitement, blinking slowly.

“You look stupid,” Chenle tells him, breaking him out of his reverie. Renjun launches himself at his best friend, uncaring that Chenle’s first words to his face after months of not seeing each other were an insult. Chenle hugs him back without hesitation, and then Yukhei’s lifting them into his arms, too. 

“Chenle missed you a lot!” Yukhei booms into his ear. “He won’t say it so I will.”

“Shut up!” Chenle complains, kicking his feet so he will let them down. 

Back on the ground, Renjun hits Chenle’s arm playfully. “You missed me?”

“I’m going back to China,” Chenle mutters. 

Renjun laughs at his disgruntled expression, then turns to look at Jaemin and Jeno, who look like the cats who got the milk. “How’d you pull this off?’

“Chenle contacted me on Instagram a week ago,” Jeno says, nodding toward the other boy. “He said he saw me on your recent posts and asked for my help to surprise you, and we figured Christmas Eve would be the best time.”

“But I thought you were going to your parents’ and cancelled last minute?”

Jeno sighs. “Look, I love my parents and all, but I hate spending the holidays with them. Friends are more fun.”

Renjun tries to hold back, but he can’t. He’s so grateful to Jeno for orchestrating the whole thing that he rushes to him and hugs him, too. Jeno hugs him back, laughing over the sound of Jaemin’s complaints that he didn’t get a hug. 

After Renjun runs through introductions between everyone, they crowd around the living room and spend the entire night talking, drinking bubbly champagne, and getting to know each other. Donghyuck shares as many embarrassing stories of Renjun’s childhood as he can, telling them about the time he fell off a tree trying to save a cat and how he would cry when he failed to ride a bike.

In turn, Renjun talks about Donghyuck belting out songs everywhere they went, earning the nickname of _Glee club_ from their classmates. Donghyuck flips him off for that one, and Renjun blows him a kiss.

If for a second Renjun worried that his new friends wouldn’t get along with Chenle and Yukhei, it flies out of his mind quickly. Jeno warms up to Chenle within minutes, indulging his every whim throughout the night and claiming he’s the cutest thing. Jisung also seems to adore Chenle right away, though he shows it in a less enthusiastic manner. Yukhei, ever the social butterfly, befriends Jaemin and Mark without a hitch. Soon, the three of them are laughing together like they’ve known each other all their lives. 

Deep into the night, Renjun and Donghyuck congregate in the kitchen and dig into the leftover bulgogi while the others drink the night away. There’s sauce smeared across Donghyuck’s lips and chin, his hair tousled.

“You know,” Donghyuck starts, searching for the galbi, “I’m really glad you found Chenle and Yukhei while you were in China.”

Renjun licks one finger clean and narrows his eyes at him. “That sounds like you didn’t trust me to make any friends.”

“Not exactly,” Donghyuck laughs. “You weren’t the friendliest guy when we were in school, so I worried you would have a hard time adjusting to a new place.”

He thinks about that for a second. As much as Renjun doesn’t want to admit it, Donghyuck is right; he had a hard time adjusting to life in Beijing for a long time after he moved, and there were times when he didn’t think he would be able to handle it. More than once he thought of moving back to Seoul, of calling quits. The only reason he held on was because Chenle, even before Renjun opened up to him, was already clinging and calling him for his own.

“It’s all thanks to Chenle,” is what Renjun settles for saying, playing with the fork in his hand. “Honestly, I don’t think I would have stayed if it wasn’t for him.”

“I’m glad you had him,” Donghyuck grins. “And that you still do. You also have me, so, you know, you kind of won the lottery in friends.”

Renjun shoves him away, both laughing, but he thinks Donghyuck has a point.

**☆☆☆**

Someone broke out the eggnog sometime after midnight. Renjun recalls Yukhei nuzzled under Chenle’s chin, laughing at one thing or another and his entire face flushed red from the alcohol, and how Jeno finally allowed Jaemin on his lap after two cups. 

He also remembers Mark’s hand resting on his thigh, his warmth searing into his skin even through Renjun’s pants. He wasn’t even touching him inappropriately, the hand merely above his knee as he laughed alongside Jisung and Donghyuck, and yet Renjun couldn’t focus on anything else. 

The night progressed like that, with Renjun tipsy and giggly as Jeno told dad jokes and Jaemin cooed about how cute he looked when he told them, Yukhei laughing along and Chenle growing progressively sleepier with every second. 

It was Jisung who suggested they went home, sometime around 2 am. He was the only one with his inhibitions intact, since he had to drive Donghyuck back to their place, and he physically dragged Donghyuck away from an equally inebriated Jaemin as they tried to latch onto one another.

Mark, after taking one look at Renjun, asked if he would be opposed to him using his powers to get them home. Renjun agreed, partly because he didn’t want to take an Uber like this, but mostly because he wanted Mark to hold him close.

They said their goodbyes to the remaining boys at the party, Chenle reassuring Renjun he and Yukhei would be fine on their way to their hotel before Mark was grabbing his waist and whisking them away.

Now, Renjun sits on the edge of his bed and watches Mark putter around the room, half-naked as he looks for his pajamas. Mark has taken a liking to sleeping, even if he can only do it for a few hours at a time, and he says he’s close to sleeping through the whole night. 

Renjun’s shirt hangs unbuttoned on his shoulders. He contemplates undoing his pants as well, but he doesn’t know if that would be inappropriate. Mark’s still wearing his jeans, shirt discarded on the floor and barefoot, and Renjun keeps his eyes above shoulder level for his own sanity.

“Hey,” Mark says, glancing at him from the closet. Back when Renjun first moved in, they had separated the space in two, but now it’s a messy combination of their clothes. Renjun sometimes wonders how Mark affords to buy those. “Are you alright? You seem kinda out of it.”

“I’m just sitting here,” Renjun chokes out, “Trying not to jump you.”

Mark laughs, a startled sort of laugh, the kind that makes him hiccup and throw his head back. Renjun smiles at the sight, glad that his little joke (intentional or not) helped soothe out the tension in the room before it could suffocate him.

“Why not?” Mark teases.

It takes a second for Renjun’s mind to catch up with the implications behind Mark’s words. It’s the glint of mischief in Mark’s eyes that does it for him, and once he understands what he’s saying, Renjun can only gape at him. 

Mark doesn’t back down, nor does he retract his offer. He just stands there, shirtless, eyes glowing red, the most beautiful creature Renjun has ever seen in his twenty-three years of living.

Renjun doesn’t want to waste another second. Covering the few steps that separate them, he grabs Mark by the back of his neck to drag him closer to his level and kisses him soundly, taking advantage of Mark’s surprised gasp to slide his tongue into his mouth.

There is little finesse to the kiss, as well as an obvious sense of finality. There is something definitely distinct about it, as if this is where all their other kisses were leading them, like they were meant to be right here, right now, and no place else.

Mark cups his cheek and deepens the kiss, changing the angle so he can lick behind Renjun’s teeth. Renjun moans, a hand tangling in Mark’s hair and pulling at a strand, and the sound Mark makes into his mouth sends tingles down his spine.

The back of Renjun’s knees hit the mattress before Mark’s lowering him onto the bed, straddling his hips and separating from his lips to look at him. Renjun’s breath gets caught in his throat at the sight of Mark hovering above him.

“Do you think tonight’s the night?” 

The words fly out of Renjun’s mouth before he can stop them, corny and cringy and setting his face aflame. He almost doesn’t want to hear Mark’s answer, half-expecting him to laugh ― and, really, Renjun wouldn’t even blame him for it. 

Except Mark only smiles at him, sweet and loving, and leans down to peck his lips before murmuring, “Third time’s the charm.”

Renjun gapes at him like a fish out of water, and then he’s smiling until his cheeks hurt. 

Instead of dragging Mark back in for another kiss, Renjun wiggles his way further up the bed and reaches into his nightstand, digging around the second drawer until his fingers curl around a familiar bottle. It’s light, evidence of his less than innocent nights alone when Mark wasn’t home, but he doesn’t have time to feel embarrassed about that.

Renjun returns to Mark’s side and hands the bottle to him, then retracts his hand before Mark can grab it.

“Wait, how do you wanna do this?” Renjun frowns, glancing at Mark in concern. “Is it wrong of me to assume you’ll top? Do you _want_ to top?”

He leaves out the part where he questions if they’re even going to fuck tonight. Maybe Mark didn’t mean they would be going all the way tonight, in which case Renjun is a pretentious asshole. Or something like that.

“I’m,” Mark fumbles, giggling, “I’m fine with whatever you want, Junnie. If you want me to top, that’s more than okay with me.”

Renjun bites his bottom lip in consideration before he speaks. “What if I want to fuck you?”

He thinks he broke Mark. The demon seems surprised at Renjun’s question, mouth hanging open just _so_ before he snaps it shut, and his cheeks are beet red. 

“Don’t you want to?” Renjun asks, self-conscious. They’re sitting face to face, legs crossed, and Renjun almost reaches out to poke Mark’s cheek in search for a reaction.

“I didn’t think you would want to,” Mark corrects him. At Renjun’s bewildered expression, he elaborates, “It’s just, most people fantasize about getting fucked by a demon, you know? Not the other way around.”

“Well, that’s just stupid,” Renjun blurts out with a scoff. “I mean, have you seen your ass?”

What the _hell_ is he saying?!

Thankfully, his outburst earns him a laugh from Mark. “It’s alright, it isn’t as if I don’t like it.”

“Does that mean you’ve never bottomed before?” Renjun inquires.

“Not _never,”_ Mark defends himself. “It’s just been a while, that’s all. But I… I would like that, Renjun. With you.”

If Renjun kept a list of the hottest things he’s heard in his life, Mark’s confession of wanting Renjun to fuck him would be number one. It would be the entire list, actually.

They shuffle around on the bed a bit so that Mark can lay on his back, and Renjun kneels between his spread legs. There’s a bulge tenting the front of Mark’s jeans, identical to the one Renjun sports, and Renjun can’t resist, reaching out to rub his palm against it just to gauge Mark’s reaction.

Mark hisses, his hips canting up seemingly of his own accord before they drop back down on the bed. He’s clearly desperate for touch, naked chest rising with every breath he takes and flushed red, and Renjun revels in the sight. 

“Can I take off your jeans?” Renjun asks, fingers hovering over the button. Mark nods his head immediately, and Renjun smiles. “Lift your hips, please.”

It takes some manoeuvring to peel the jeans off Mark’s legs, followed by his boxers, but then Mark’s lying naked on his bed and Renjun thinks he has a seizure. 

Mark’s beautiful, of course. Renjun’s known this from the second they met, and that hasn’t changed. It’s simply that the fact hits him square in the face as he drinks in the sight of Mark’s long, toned legs spread to make room for Renjun, his firm chest and the bicep that bulges when Mark moves his arm under his head so he can look at him better.

There’s also his dick, which captures most of Renjun’s attention. Long, curved, the head flushed red and a vein that travels along the side, it’s easily prettiest Renjun has seen. Not that dicks are pretty, but his is, somehow.

Renjun clears his throat and drags his eyes away, fumbling for the lube. He makes eye contact with Mark and has to hold back the sudden urge to crawl under Mark’s skin, focusing on squirting a decent amount of lube onto his fingers. He rubs it between the pads of his fingers to warm it up before he uses his clean hand to hike Mark’s left leg higher.

“Are you ready?” Renjun asks him, breathless. Mark gives his verbal confirmation and Renjun breaches his opening with his index finger, watching Mark’s face to search for any signs of discomfort. 

He finds none, so he sets out to stretch Mark thoroughly. The first finger is never much, and he waits until Mark’s swiveling his hips in search of friction to add a second finger.

“Fuck,” Mark grunts, throwing his head back onto the pillow. 

Renjun’s a bit enamoured with the elegant slope of his neck, the tendon sticking out like a beacon. He hesitates very briefly before leaning forward and attaching his lips to the side of his neck, sucking a bruise into the skin while scissoring his fingers inside Mark’s hole. 

“Tell me if it hurts,” Renjun murmurs into his ear before inching down, peppering kisses along his jaw and neck until he reaches his collarbones, where he makes sure to mark him up. 

“I’m,” Mark gasps, moving his hips in tandem with Renjun’s fingers. “I’m good, you’re so good, Junnie.”

Renjun smiles against Mark’s pec. His fingers rub Mark’s walls, searching for his prostate, and he thinks he wouldn’t mind staying like this forever. Mark’s tight, warm, and the sounds he makes while Renjun fingers him are music to his ears.

Mark’s cock brushes against Renjun’s torso, and suddenly he remembers there’s something else he wanted to do. He thinks he could pull it off, so he backs away from Mark, pulling his fingers out momentarily so he can scoot down the bed.

Lying down on his front, Renjun leans his weight on his left elbow and slides his fingers back inside of Mark’s hole, adding a third finger in the process. Mark moans, as if punched out of him, but it’s cut off with a gasp as Renjun takes his cock into his mouth.

Renjun doesn’t plan on taking all of him in right now, content with sucking at the head and licking down his shaft. Mark’s precum tastes differently to a human’s — it tastes better, in a way, and Renjun doesn’t mind the precum that pools on his tongue. 

Mark’s hand finds its way to Renjun’s hair, not pulling but holding on, keeping him in place as Mark’s hips rise from the bed. Renjun barely avoids choking on his cock, adjusting at the last second. He means to throw Mark a nasty look through his eyelashes, but Mark isn’t looking at him ― his head is angled toward the ceiling, eyes tightly closed and jaw tense as moan after moan tumbles from his lips. 

Renjun pulls off after a few minutes, much to both of their chagrin. He wants to stay like that for a while longer, but his dick aches in his pants and he doesn’t think he would last much longer before he started rutting against the bed sheets. He really doesn’t want to cum in his pants like a high schooler.

It’s then that he realises they forgot about something.

“Fuck, Mark, do you have a condom?”

Mark looks at him through hooded eyelids. “Why?”

“Because I don’t?” Renjun says.

“Oh, we don’t need one. Demons can’t catch STDs, so we’re fine.”

Okay, scratch that. Renjun’s list of hottest things he’s ever heard has a new entry.

Renjun gulps at the information, eager and petrified at the same time. He’s never fucked anyone without a condom before, and while he admits he’s fantasised about it in the past, it feels a little daunting to know he’s actually about to do it.

Sensing his apprehension, Mark reaches out and tangles their fingers together (with Renjun’s clean hand, of course). “We don’t have to,” he murmurs.

“I want to,” Renjun nods, perhaps too quickly. “I just… wow, I didn’t think this would happen.”

“Take all the time you need,” Mark reassures him, rubbing the back of Renjun’s hand with his palm.

It’s with Mark’s gentle encouragement that Renjun works up the courage to take off his pants and underwear, finally ditching his shirt. Mark’s eyes roam over his body, much how Renjun guesses he did to him, and it’s an exhilarating sensation. There is nothing but awe and adoration in Mark’s gaze, and it helps Renjun feel less self-conscious about the whole situation.

Renjun coats his cock in lube, hissing at the sensation after who knows how long of being hard. He thinks he might go crazy with arousal if he doesn’t do something soon, but he couldn’t put his needs above Mark’s comfort.

It’s surreal, the sensation of sliding his dick inside Mark. The incubus is unbelievably tight, even after Renjun prepped him, and warm, and wet, and it feels like a vice grip around his cock. Mark releases all the air in his lungs in a quick woosh and a moan of Renjun’s name, waiting until Renjun bottoms out to wrap both legs around his waist.

Renjun forces himself to breathe and keep his composure. Mark’s eyes sparkle under the minimum moonlight that filters through the curtains. 

The first thrusts are tentative, Renjun searching for the right angle and pace. It seems like Mark enjoys anything he gives, whining when the head of Renjun’s cock catches on his rim before he fucks back inside him, mouth agape. 

Renjun speeds up after a few more minutes, grasping Mark’s thighs to bend them at a different angle. Mark turns out to be more flexible than Renjun thought, able to prop his leg on Renjun’s shoulder, and it gives Renjun the kind of leverage he needs to fuck him deeper.

“God,” Renjun moans, and Mark makes a sound in response that makes Renjun short-circuit.

The only sounds in the room are those of skin slapping against skin and their moans, the squelching of the lube as Renjun thrusts in and out of Mark’s hole and Mark’s sudden wail as Renjun changes angles.

“There?” Renjun asks breathily. 

Mark nods, garbling out a plea that gets lost in his whimpers as Renjun doubles his efforts. Something tight coils in Renjun’s stomach, ready to snap at any second, but he’s determined to make Mark cum first. 

Renjun reaches between their bodies and takes Mark’s neglected cock in his hand, stroking him in tandem to his thrusts. He can barely see through the sweat dripping from his fringe into his eyes, but he doesn’t need to see Mark’s face to know he’s close, can tell from the way his breath hitches and how he turns incoherent, moaning out praises for Renjun until he cums in long stripes across his chest.

Satisfied, Renjun finally lets go. It doesn’t take long for him to cum as well, encouraged by Mark’s fucked out noises and the tightness around him. His hips stutter, the sensation almost too much for him, and then he’s releasing inside Mark, cum painting his walls.

Renjun collapses forward, his head on Mark’s chest. A hand cards through his hair, fingers scratching at his scalp soothingly, and Renjun sighs, feeling himself twitch in response. 

“Junnie,” Mark sighs. Renjun hums in acknowledgment, looking up when Mark urges him with a hand on his neck. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Renjun whispers back. 

Mark smiles, a tiny thing that Renjun only sees from their proximity, and then he’s dragging Renjun in for a kiss. It’s sweet, plain, nothing much but a meld of their lips. It still sets fire to Renjun’s tummy.

“We should shower,” Mark says against his lips. Renjun giggles, making Mark grin, but he insists, “Seriously, we’re gross, babe.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Renjun fires back, adjusting so he can kiss him better. “It can wait.”

**☆☆☆**

They have a very important conversation the next day. 

Renjun is still floating on cloud nine, unable to stop grinning, but he knows they can’t postpone this. It wouldn’t be very healthy of them to do so.

“Hey,” Renjun says, catching Mark by the sleeve of his hoodie as he walks past the couch. Mark hums, looking down at him with soft eyes. “Can we talk?”

He doesn’t know if Mark sensed the urgency in his voice, or if he simply agreed that quickly because it’s Renjun asking. Either way, Mark takes up residence on the spot next to him, tangling their legs together.

“What’s up?” 

Renjun twiddles his thumbs, hesitant on the best way to bring this up. Logically, he knows there is nothing wrong with wanting to talk about this, to want to know where they stand with each other, but he can't help the nagging voice in the back of his head telling him that he's being dramatic.

"I just," Renjun says, testing the words in his mouth before he speaks them, "I just want to know what we are."

"What do you mean?" Mark asks, tilting his head to the side. He's so cute, and Renjun is so in love with him, it makes his chest hurt.

"I mean that I don't just live with anybody," Renjun sighs, taking Mark's hand in his. "I mean that I don't share a bed with anybody."

The following words go unspoken, but they ring loud and clear in the silence of the living room. Mark's mouth falls open in a silent 'oh' and his grip on Renjun's hand tightens before he replies.

"Neither do I."

Renjun frowns at him, almost retracting his hand. "What?"

"I haven't slept with anyone in a while," Mark shrugs, and there is definitely a hint of a smile on his face. "Not since you and I started this."

Renjun would like to know when, exactly, Mark would say their thing started, because he personally has no idea. He suspects it must have been sometime between watching Hallmark movies together and making out on the couch.

"Oh," Renjun says, because it's all he can think of. His heart is hammering in his chest. His brows furrow, then, because, "If you haven't slept with anyone, then how are you gonna fulfill your demon thing?"

Mark's smile turns awry, as if he didn't plan on having this conversation now. Renjun feels bad to be pressuring him, but he needs to know.

"I did," Mark confesses. Renjun's too surprised to say anything about that, and Mark powers on, "I was only missing one soul, and last night..."

Renjun gapes.

"You fed from me?" Renjun asks, louder than intended. "Not that I have a problem with that! I'm just... I couldn't tell, that's all."

"I did feed from you," Mark says, lowering his eyes to a spot below Renjun's chin, as if he can't bear to make eye contact. "Like I said before, it isn't something I can help."

"I'm not mad," Renjun tells him softly, lifting Mark's head so he will look at him properly. "Really, I was just surprised since I didn't even notice. You don't have to look so sad about it."

"I'm not," Mark shakes his head. "That's exactly it, I'm not sad that I fed from you. Renjun, you're... you were delicious, plain and simple, and I think it's because you were enjoying making me feel good. It's kind of embarrassing for me."

Renjun lifts his eyebrows in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Well," Renjun breathes out, a hint of a smile lifting the corner of his lips. "In that case, we're gonna have to do that more often."

Mark laughs, the sound bright and happy. It eases some of the tension in Renjun's shoulders, but not all of it. He still has another question for Mark.

"If you already fed from all twenty souls you were missing," Renjun starts, fighting off the urge to pick at his nails, a nervous tic he'd outgrown years ago, "then, does that mean you have to go?"

Silence. Renjun is almost too afraid to look at Mark, but he must, and is met with Mark's red eyes looking right at him. Renjun doesn't have the force of will to look away from him.

"Usually, yes," Mark admits. "Under any other circumstances, I would be in Hell by now, getting assigned to whatever work they need me to do."

Renjun doesn't want to get his hopes up, but he sits a little straighter still.

"However, I decided to stay on Earth for a little longer," Mark continues. "I have more important things to do here."

"Such as?" Renjun whispers.

"Such as taking you on a date. A proper one, mind you."

Happiness bubbles in Renjun's chest and threatens to spill out of him. He has to bite his lips in order to keep the giant smile from growing on his face, but Mark grins at him and Renjun has to smile back, it would be such a crime not to.

"So what you're saying is that you're staying," Renjun says, just to make sure. "With me."

"With you," Mark agrees, voice entirely too endeared. His tail is curling in the air behind him, a physical manifestation of how he feels, and Renjun wants to reach out and touch it. He doesn't, not knowing if it would be alright with its owner, but the urge settles on his limbs.

Renjun leans, feeling Mark's energy rushing through him, and Mark closes the gap. Their lips touch, and Renjun isn't one to be sappy, but the kiss feels charged, as if lightning in a bottle. 

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL NCTZENS!! MERRY CHRISTMAS!! HAPPY NEW YEAR!! TO 2021 BEING LESS SHITTY THAN 2020 WOOHOO


End file.
